


Happy Halloween

by Strength_in_pain



Series: John and his boys [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective John Winchester, Sassy Sam Winchester, Weechesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, longer fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 06:29:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16470503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strength_in_pain/pseuds/Strength_in_pain
Summary: This is a long story, one of my longer ones yet. So to summarize... John is following a lead on a dangerous pack of werewolves and Dean and Sam get caught in the mess.Also, Dean and Sam go trick or treating and to a Halloween party. :)





	Happy Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s the Halloween special. I hope you all enjoy it! 
> 
> Happy Halloween, Witches!

> **West Virginia. October 27th. 1994. Dean 15 Sam 11.**

 

It was smooth and sweet. Pure pumpkin with a slight punch of espresso. The silky and spicy pumpkin coffee was authentic and John Winchester hated it. 

 

First of all he didn’t ask for the pumpkin spice coffee. He would never ask for such a thing. Straight black coffee was the only way to go. But most importantly when he tasted the creamy taste, it reminded him of crisp fall Sunday’s with Mary. They would sit by the crackling fire in soft sweaters and talk about the baby they were going to have in the winter, how they would raise him. No, John couldn’t stand the autumn vibes. 

 

He hated everything about autumn. He hated the crisp copper leaves falling from the trees. He hated the sweet scent of cinnamon apple candles burning in every diner along with their stupid pumpkin pies on display. He hated drinking hot coco. He hated the vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges peaking through every window. But most of all he hated, absolutely hated, with a burning passion of hatred, Halloween. 

 

It was the absolute worst! All these people putting up pretend ghosts and witches outside their doors for decoration. The happy children dressing up as their favorite ‘monster’ as if it were something to laugh about. Adorable little movies about Casper the friendly- Yeah right- ghost would come on TV. As if a ghost could ever be friendly. Older kids would risk their lives by daring each other to go into haunted houses. _It’s not really haunted, there’s no such thing as ghosts_ , that’s what they think, and then some one ends up dead. 

 

No, the ugly truth about Halloween was everything that was supposed to be make-believe and fun was very, very, real and very deadly. It was the most busy time of year for hunters because monsters, ghosts, and every supernatural creature alive used this time of year as an excuse to cause some unexplained mischief. For instance, it’s supposed to be a full moon on Halloween this year, and John is preparing for a werewolf attack. He and a few other hunters have located the specific area where the werewolf will strike. Which is why John and his two sons are hanging out in West Virginia. They’re searching for the werewolf before he strikes so hopefully they can save a few people. 

 

Speaking of his boys, they were more interested in the whole autumn vibes thing. Sammy, his youngest, liked the leaves falling,  because he could jump into the big pile after he and his brother finish raking. He was eleven this year, and claimed he was too old for jumping in leaves, but when his big brother Dean, raked a giant pile of them, Sam couldn’t resist. He threw himself in the colorful array of leaves, squealing with glee as his brother leaped in to wrestle him. 

 

As for Dean, well he loved the smell of apple cinnamon candles - always had - when he was a baby he would try to eat the delicious smelling candles. John would have to watch him like a hawk. Now that Dean’s older, he traded his love for eating candles to eating pumpkin pie. Every time they stopped into a diner around the fall season, and Dean would see the display of pumpkin pies, he would ask for one. Every. Single. Time. John almost always said no, but on the rare occasion he would let Dean buy a pie. 

 

Sammy and Dean both loved hot coco, and much to John’s distaste, they both liked Halloween. 

 

Dean loved the candy. He used to beg John to let him trick-or-treat. 

 

“All my friends are doing it, Dad! Every kid on the planet practically does it. Why can’t I? It’s free candy. We’re poor. I don’t know about you, but I’m seeing the solution here.” At eight years old, Dean was firmly determined. But John was more determined. 

 

“No.” 

 

“Dad! Please! It’s free candy.”

 

“I’ll buy you some candy.” 

 

“But my friends are trick-or-treating. They asked me if I wanted to go with them and I said yes.” 

 

“Well you should’ve said no.”

 

“Please. Come on, no one actually gets hurt trick-or-treating.” 

 

That’s when John shoved books upon books in front of Dean’s face. A whole bunch of hunters records showing a list of every child maimed, beaten, kidnapped, and murdered on Halloween by some supernatural creature. 

 

Dean’s response still rings in John’s ears. “Well it won’t happen to _me_. I’m not some stupid little kid. I know how to defend myself.” His little hand clasped John on the shoulder and that was the first year John let Dean trick-or-treat. 

 

This year, his eldest was fifteen, and apparently fifteen is the year for parties. At least, that’s what his son had told him while rolling his eyes. _Honestly Dad, you know nothing about ninth grade_. 

 

As hesitant as John was to let Dean go, he trusted his son. And if Dean wanted to have some fun with kids his age, then John would let him. 

 

But then there was Sam. If Dean is out at a party, who will watch Sam? The kid wants to trick-or-treat too. And there was no way in hell John was letting him go by himself. Not Sam. He let Dean go by himself, but Dean could shoot a .32 automatic pistol with both eyes closed and hit a target dead in the center. The kid was lethal and dangerous like his old man. But Sammy was the complete opposite. He fought John on every training technique and would never pick up a gun if he could help it. But that didn’t mean Sam couldn’t hit a target. After all, both of his son’s were very talented when they wanted to be. 

 

“We should talk about this party you want to go to.” John said sipping his coffee with disgust. 

 

“Too bitter?” Dean asked, making a little face to match his father’s. 

 

“Too sweet.” John concluded. Dean reached his hand, curled it forward, asking for silent permission to take a sip. When John didn’t stop him, Dean slurped a giant amount of the silky coffee. 

 

“I like it.” He announced, drinking more. 

 

John hummed around his sandwich. He heard the first rumble of thunder from outside the window. Great, another day of rain. 

 

“So about this party.” John began, but Dean hastily cut him off. 

 

“Don’t you think we should talk about the case?” Rummaging through his beaten-up backpack, Dean pulled out some papers. “I found this in the local library.” He tossed two missing person’s flyers on the table. 

 

“Yeah I know.” John said, looking over the flyers anyway. He can never be to sure, maybe he missed something. But John saw the same information: Missing High School Student, Marcie Gray. She was last seen in Fayetteville. Brunette, green eyes. Last seen in black dress and high heels. The other one was about a 28 year old Justin Johnson, last seen at a gas station a few miles from the diner John was at. His pick-up truck was found near Huntington. 

 

“I get the feeling your avoiding this topic.” John said, handing the papers back to Dean. 

 

“No sir, I’m just trying to help with the case. See, I thought you might want to see where the truck was found. Ya know, to see if you can find where the pack of werewolves are hiding out.” 

 

“Oh and leave you here by yourself? Is that what you want.”

 

“Jeesh Dad, you’ve left us alone before. Plenty of times, might I add.”

 

Sam snorted, blushing when both his father and brother glared at him. He reached for the pumpkin coffee. 

 

“I can check the lead on Mr. Walker.” Dean said. 

 

“Like hell you will.” John growled. 

 

“What? I’m just trying to be helpful.” 

 

“Dean, it’s dangerous. I don’t have to tell you how many hunters have died trying to go after this pack of werewolves every year, 

do I?” 

 

“Then why are we even here?” Sam asked, wiping his lips because they had a decent amount of whipped cream on them. “I mean, why don’t we actually celebrate Halloween for once and leave the hunting to someone else.”

 

“And risk a bunch of kids dying?” John said tossing his sandwich back down on his plate. 

 

Sam huffed, “you always use that line.” 

 

“Because it’s the truth.” 

 

Dean looked back and forth between his father and brother. “Alright you two, take it easy.” 

 

“I am.” Sam yelled.

 

 At the same time John said, “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

 

Throwing his hands up in the air, Dean kicked back in his chair surrendering. He couldn’t resist muttering under his breath,  “It’s like trying to get the Hayfields and McCoys to get along.” 

 

“Excuse me?” John asked, giving his son a rabid snarl. 

 

“Nothin’” 

 

Pulling out his wallet, John tossed a few dollar bills on the table. “I shouldn’t let you go to this party.” 

 

Dean’s face fell. Before he could say anything, John continued, “but I know you want to hang out with your friends so I’ll let you go. But on one condition. I want you to watch Sam and his friends while they trick-or-treat. 

 

His mouth dropped open, “Dad! That’s going to take forever! The party will be over by the time I arrive.”

 

“Too bad. I’m busy going after Walker, so you stay with your brother.” 

 

“He can take care of himself.”

 

“Yeah, I can take care of myself.” Sam said. “I don’t want Dean as my chaperone. All my friends will think I’m lame.” 

 

“Then you can’t go.”

 

“That’s crap. No one else is going to have a Chaperone.”

 

“No one else knows about the horrors out there except us.” 

 

“That’s why I’m going in a group with a bunch of my friends.” Sam said, “There’s safety in numbers, Dad.”

 

“Or a large size meal for a pack of hungry wolves.” 

 

“Dean, tell him he’s being unreasonable.” Sam said, looking to his big brother for help. 

 

“Dad you’re being unreasonable.” 

 

“You know I’m not.” John said with a smile, “sorry but that’s the deal boys. Either go together or you’re not going at all.” 

 

“Fine.” Sam cried. “I’ll just look like a freak again, but what else is new.” 

 

“You better make the rounds fast because I want to go to that party.” Dean explained. 

 

“I want to go to the party with you.” Sam said. 

 

“No. Absolutely not.” 

 

“If you have to ruin my night I should be allowed to ruin yours.”

 

“You already are, kid.” 

 

“Don’t call me kid.” He glared. 

 

“Oh sorry, Sammy.”

 

Sam groaned loudly, “You know I hate when you do that.” 

 

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.” 

 

“Shut up!” He shouted too loudly for the quiet diner. John stood up after that and gestured for the boys to do the same. Sam gulped, never sure when he pushed his Dad too far. But John Winchester was just taking them to the car. No ass-beatings in the bathroom like the summer of ‘86 when Dean and Sam threw an all out food fight in a local diner. 

 

Once they were back on the streets, John turned the music down slightly. 

 

“Hey Dean.” He said glancing to the passenger seat when his son sat. 

 

“Yeah?” He asked, fiddling with his finger nails. 

 

“It’s not a bad idea.” 

 

Dean shot John a look that said, ‘what the hell are you talking about.’ 

“What? Taking Sam to the party with me? How is that possibly a good idea?” 

 

“You’d be safer together.”

 

“Sir, I think you’re letting the case get to you. I know Marcie was around my age and she was last seen leaving a party in this town when she went missing, but...” Dean sighed, unsure of how to finish what he was trying to say. “Ok. I’ll take him with me. I’ll keep him safe.” 

 

“You better.” that’s all John said about the matter before turning up Bonjovi to full volume. 

 

They arrived at an old house where Martian was waiting for them. 

 

“Just once I wish it was a nice looking place.”  Dean muttered as he stepped out of the car. Martin, an excellent, well-known- hunter who saved John’s ass a few times was waiting for them on the porch. 

 

“Thought you might like to see this.” He said, opening the door for John. The inside of the house was cluttered with shattered objects. 

 

“Looks like an intense struggle. What happened?” 

 

“Apparently a group of amateur hunters walked in on the pack’s den.” 

 

“Shit.” John cringed as he spotted a dead body torn open with the heart ripped clean out. “Is That the hunter?” 

 

“Yep. That one over there too.” He pointed to another dead body hanging from the destroyed kitchen sink. 

 

“It smells so bad.” Dean whined, as he walked inside. He and Sam stopped with a jolt when they spotted the two bodies. 

 

“Dad.”

 

“It’s alright.” John murmured. “Come here. I want to show you something.” Dean and Sam looked at one another, then hesitantly went to their father’s side. 

 

“Aw, this is so disgusting.” Dean complained, trying to avert his eyes from the mangled corpse. Sammy had his back turned, he couldn’t bare to see another human body so bloody. 

 

“Do you see this?” John pointed to the claw marks on the wall. 

 

“Yeah, werewolf claws.” Dean said, tilting his head to get a better look. 

 

John walked over to a desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. He put the sheet of paper over the claw marks. “It wasn’t the werewolf that made these scratches.” He scribbled the pencil over the paper. 

 

When he lifted the sheet of paper, the scratch marks were actually numbers. 

 

“It’s a code?” Dean asked. 

 

“A postal code. All hunters leave them when they know they’re going to die and they want someone to finish where they left off. I’m guessing these amateurs had some leads on the werewolf’s hide out. Obviously they found this one. If we open their mailbox we’ll have a good chance at finding the next one.” 

 

“Nice work, John.” Martian praised. “But I wanted to show you this.” He held up a black high heel shoe. “I don’t think she’s dead yet.” 

 

John furrowed his eyebrows together. “Why would a werewolf care about keeping his victims alive?” 

 

“Maybe they’re saving their food?  Stocking up around Halloween so they can go back into hiding. Prepare for hibernation, ya know? It would make it harder for hunters to find them and kill them. Plus they could expand their pack that way.” 

 

“Or maybe they turned the girl into a werewolf and are expanding their pack in that way.” 

 

“Either way, we need to find their hide out. We might have a chance at saving the girl. And maybe the others as well.” 

 

“All right, you head to the post office. I’m taking the boys home.” 

 

“No way. We can help you.” Dean said. 

 

“No. It’s too dangerous. You and Sam shouldn’t be working on something like this. Look what happened to the last two hunters.” 

 

John pointed at the bodies that were torn open. He nodded as his son’s both cringed. Good, at least they understood why they couldn’t be a part of this hunt. 

 

On the way to the motel, Dean begged his father to be careful. “If it’s that dangerous, you and Martian need to stay together. No big heroic moves from either of you.” He scolded. 

 

John smiled, ruffling his hair gently. “I’ll be fine, Dean. I always am. Remember I’ve been doing crap like this since you were five.” 

 

“Yeah,” Dean scoffed, “but ten years isn’t very long.” 

 

It took a whole fifteen minutes for Dean to finally let his Dad go, but even then, he was moping around the motel room. Sam understood though, he was worried too. 

 

“Don’t worry, Dad will be fine.” Dean told him at dinner. They were eating the finest mac n cheese in the land. It tasted like rubber cardboard with water instead of cheese. 

 

“I know.” Sam said sadly, “but I can’t get those imagines out of my brain. What if that’s how Dad goes. You know? Like a violent and bloody death.” 

 

“Don’t say that.” Dean shuttered. And Sam knew that tone. That was Dean’s warning tone. The one that said ‘you better shut up right now or I’m gonna storm out that door and leave you alone.’ 

 

So Sam changed the subject. “You can trick-or-treat with me and my friends if you want to.” 

 

Dean was glaring at him. Not exactly the reaction Sam wanted. 

 

“I’m not doing that.” 

 

“It’s free candy, bro.”

 

“I’ll look lame.” 

 

“Who cares? Everyone think’s were lame anyway. I mean, we never have any friends.”

 

“Speak for yourself.” 

 

“You have friends?”

 

“Of course I do.” Dean said, feeling butt hurt. 

 

“I just mean, we’re never in one place long enough to have real friends.”

 

“Oh, so my friends are fake?” 

 

“No, Dean that’s not what I’m saying. Why is everything a fight with you. I was just trying to be nice, but you know what...fine. You can just follow me around like some miserable old man and watch as I get candy and you get nothing except your pride.”

 

“Screw yourself.” 

 

“Right back at ya.” 

 

Dean slammed his fork down. Uh-oh. Sam knew that look. The deep scowl, where Dean’s full lips pressed into a thin line, the scrunched up eyebrows, the glinting green eyes were all signs of a blow-up. 

 

“Dude,” he tried to ease Dean’s radiating tension. “Just because Dad’s on a really dangerous mission doesn’t mean we should waste our time worrying. We should have fun.”

 

“I’m done.” Dean muttered, pushing his chair back and standing up. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. He had no idea what Dean was talking about but his brother obviously just wanted to pick a fight. “Whatever.” He muttered. 

 

“It’s not whatever, Sam. Someday that dead mangled body might actually be Dad’s.” 

 

Oh. So the thought of Dad dying is what was stressing Dean out. Sam understood. He worried about his father too, but then he remembers how angry he gets at his father for being a hunter in the first place. 

 

“Well maybe if he didn’t go after things that are trying to kill him -“

 

Every plate on the table was shoved viciously to the floor. Dean stood panting above the shattered objects, looking quite miserable. So maybe this was worse than Sam thought. 

 

“Dean... I’m sorry. Dad will be okay. Really, he will.” 

 

His older brother was already getting a broom from the corner of the room. As he crouched down to clean up the broken ceramic, Sam went to help him. 

 

“He’s the best hunter ever, you said so yourself. Nothing’s gonna get him.” 

 

“I just wish we could help him. I hate that I’m going to a party while Dad’s off hunting down a dangerous pack of werewolves. I feel like I’m letting him down.”

 

Sam swallowed a lump in his throat. “No, it’s okay. Dad don’t want us to come with him. He wants us to stay here.”

 

He watched Dean toss the broken ceramic in the garbage. “I know. Just forget it, ok? I shouldn’t care so much.”

 

“It’s okay to care about things, Dean. Especially Dad.”

 

“Caring makes you weak.” Dean spat, walking over to the door. “I’m going out to buy some candy. Lock the door behind me and make sure you put a circle of salt down.”

 

Then Dean was gone and Sam was alone once again. He spent a few hours reading his history book. Then he decided to work on his English paper. By the time he finished that, the impala was parked outside and Dad was opening the door. 

 

“Hey Sammy. I thought you’d be asleep by now.” John said checking his watch. It was 12:30am. 

 

“I was waiting for Dean to come home.” Sam said, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. 

 

“He’s not back yet? It’s late.” 

 

When Sam looked at his own watch, he felt a  wave of panic stir inside his stomach. Gulping, he sat up and looked at the kitchen table where Dean left his gun. _Shit, why did he leave his weapon?_

 

“You don’t think something got him, do you?” Sam’s face crumpled, “Oh my God! What if the werewolf got Dean?!” 

 

“Don’t say that,” John shouted, voice crisp and cold. He didn’t even look like he was panicking. 

 

“We have to do something. We should go look for him -“ Sam cried. 

 

“Did he say where he was going?”

 

Sam wracked his brains. What did Dean say? “Um, yeah. He said he was going to get candy.”

 

“So he probably went to the gas station. It’s not too far away.” John said, paling suddenly.

 

  _Justin Johnson was last seen at a gas station a few miles from the diner._

 

“Isn’t that the place where -“

 

“Shut up, Sam. Get your jacket. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

 

The drive with Dad was very unpleasant. He spent the entire time grumbling about how Sam was irresponsible to let Dean leave in the first place. “What the hell is wrong with you? I put you two in a motel room together so you would be safe. What is the first fucking rule! You learned it when you were three, damnit.”

 

“Never leave the room while your gone.” Sam recited, “unless it’s an emergency. Then we should leave together and contact pastor Jim.”

 

“That’s right. So what the hell were you thinking letting Dean just leave like that.”

 

Sam wanted to say Dean left all the time. And if Dad was around maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about Dean leaving and getting kidnapped. Maybe Dad should just stop being a hunter and then Dean could stop worrying about Dad. But saying any of that would be stupid, so Sam kept his mouth shut. He settled for a simple shrug. 

 

His Dad was gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned stark white. His brown eyes were catching reflecting moonlight and it almost looked like Dad’s eyes were watering. But Sam knew better. It was just the moonlight. 

 

As soon as John parked, both he and Sam were running into the gas station. The cashier was resting on a titled back chair with his cap pulled over his eyes and his feet on the desk. 

 

“Hey!” John barked. The poor guy woke from what looked like a peaceful sleep. He blinked a few times then grabbed the bar scanner. “What can I do for ya.”

 

“Did you see a boy come in here? He would be fifteen. Has light brown hair, green eyes, a smart ass attitude. He probably gave you some lip.” 

 

“He was wearing a light gray shirt, with a red button shirt over top of it.” Sam added. “Probably had my Dad’s jacket on.” 

 

John raised an eyebrow towards Sam. “Seriously?” 

 

“He likes to wear it when you’re not home.” He whispered, then he turned to the cashier, “It’s a brownish leather jacket.” 

 

“Yeah, I seen him.” The cashier said. 

 

“You have?” Sam perked up, but Dad’s voice was still cold. 

 

“What time?” He practically barked. 

 

“Around seven or so, why?”

 

“Which way did he go?” John asked. 

 

“Are you his old man or something? Is the kid in trouble?”

 

“Yeah, now which way did he go?”

 

The cashier smirked. “Gee. It’s kinda foggy. I can picture him, but then everything gets fuzzy.”

 

Sam furrowed his eyebrows together. What does he mean by that? Was he drugged? Maybe he took drugs. He kinda looked like the type. But the Sam saw his Dad slip the man a twenty and it clicked. The guy was a scumbag. 

 

“He went that way, towards the lake. Kid wasn’t alone either.”

 

“What do you mean he wasn’t alone?” John exclaimed. Sam was getting really worried now. He kept seeing those dead bodies and now his brain was imaging Dean ripped open with his heart laying on the floor. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

 

“What’s the matter with him?” The cashier asked pointing to Sam’s tear-streaked face. 

 

John had enough. He leaned over the counter top and squeezed the cashiers shirt collar. “Who the fuck was with him!”

 

“Calm down, man.” The guy cried. He was a tall man, with muscles, but he looked really small in comparison to John. 

 

“Listen pal, my son hasn’t been home since he came out here and you’re the last person who saw him so you’re gonna tell me everything you know starting with the person he was with. Did he look like he was struggling?”

 

“No. Look,” the man shoved John’s hands off of him. Once he was free he straightened his shirt collar, “he was with a bunch of kids. They were all laughing and walking towards the lake over there. One of the girls said her father owned a rental house out there.”

 

“Let’s go.” He said to Sam, grabbing his youngest son’s hand and tugging him out of the store. They drove towards the lake and sure enough, John spotted a cheap cabin looking rental house. He threw open the trunk to the impala and grabbed a few weapons. He gave Sam the .45 pistol and he took the shot gun. 

 

Then, John went over to the window, peering inside to see if he could see anything, but the window was dark and there were shrubs all around it. 

 

He pulled out his EMF reader but it wasn’t working very well. “Crap. The telephone wires must still be working. It’s screwing with the readings.”

 

Sam sighed, “that’ll do it too.” He looked cautiously at the door. “Should we just, go in?”

 

John nodded. The door creaked open to reveal a dark cabin room. The entrance hall was roomy, airy and eerie. An uneasy breeze blew down the corridor and grasped him with its chilly touch. Its fingers circled around his body, tenderly fondling every inch of him, pulling his shoulder’s tight together as he huddled into himself for warmth. The furthest door from him had been left ajar, so John cautiously went towards it. The door led to a stair case that descended to the basement. Of course. 

 

“Sammy, stay close. You have your gun?” 

 

“No Dad, I threw it in the bushes.” 

 

John ignored him and very carefully opened the basement door. Once he noticed the coast was clear, he lowered his weapon. 

 

“Dad?” Sam whispered. 

 

“What?”

 

“I think I see someone.”

 

John noticed a shadow in front of him, and he raised his gun. Very slowly, John went behind the couch and then he jumped shouting “hold it right there.”

 

A loud girlish shriek rang out. A lamp light was turned on by a random half-naked boy and John realized exactly what was going on. 

 

“Dude!” 

 

“Oh my God!” The girl screamed, cowering behind her partner. “He has a gun?”

 

“Who are you?” The kid screamed. 

 

John put the gun down and covered Sam’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I was looking for my son. Have you seen him?” 

 

The couple just stared at him with shell-shocked, mortified expressions. Then...

 

“Dad?” 

 

“Dean!” Sam shouted running towards his brother. 

 

“Winchester? This is your father?” 

 

“Y-Yeaaahhh.” Dean chuckled, putting his hand behind his head and scratching. “Sorry Bill. I didn’t think he’d show up.”

 

“How did he know how to find us?” The girl asked. 

 

“Finding people’s kinda my job, sweet heart.” John said sharply, “especially my son.” 

 

Dean’s cheeks were burning now. “I’m so sorry Maria.”

 

“Oh she’s not the one you should be apologizing to buddy.” 

 

“I can explain.” Dean mumbled. 

 

“You better.” 

 

“Hey Dean, buddy old pal.” Billy said from his spot on the floor, “I love you and everything, but can you and your family please take this somewhere else.” 

 

“No problem.” Dean said with a wink. He grabbed his Dad’s arm and started leading him out of the house. 

 

“Do you have any idea how worried we were about you?” John scolded quietly. “You better have a really good reason for staying out in the middle of the night and it better not involve getting laid or I swear -“

 

“Okay. I’m gonna stop you right there, sir. I had a really good reason.”

 

John crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m listening.”

 

“Do we have to talk about it here?” Dean whined. John made a move to grab his belt and Dean screamed, “Ok! Ok! Easy. Just calm down.” 

 

John gripped his upper arm tightly. “Once again, you scared the living hell out of me. You leave the motel room when your not suppose to and you don’t come home. Plus there are a number of people going missing this time of year thanks to a killer werewolf that rips people’s hearts out and eats them. So like I said, you better have a damn. good. reason.”

 

“The house was haunted.” Dean said. “It’s Maria’s house, she’s the chick throwing the Halloween party, and she said her dad owned this lake house. It’s claimed to be haunted which is why it’s the perfect place for a Halloween party. But you and I both know, if this place is really haunted then a bunch of kids are going to die. So, I came to check it out. When I got here I noticed all the signs of a haunting so I went to the library and did some research which is what took so long, and I just finished burning this brass candle-stick. It had the ghost’s DNA on it because apparently someone bashed her head in with it.”

 

John closed his eyes and sighed. His hair was turning gray. 

 

“So once I salted and burned the object, I came back to tell Maria she could have the party here and that’s when I saw you spying on her having sex.”

 

“Okay. Get in the car.” 

 

“I mean, Dad. They make porn for a reason.” 

 

“Car. Now. And I still don’t think this is very funny, so drop the attitude.”

 

“Yes sir. Sorry sir.” Dean muttered, he slipped into the backseat and watched Sam get in. 

 

“Hey Sammy. I’m sorry if I scared you. I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“Is alright Dean. You never do. I’m use to it.” Sam joked waiting for his big brother to ruffle his hair. Dean didn’t disappoint. 

 

“I love ya Sam.” Dean whispered, as he held Sam in a headlock. 

 

“Relax. I don’t think Dad’s gonna kill you.” Sam muttered. But his big brother’s face fell. He was scared. 

 

Sam stayed awake for the rest of the night listening to Dad and Dean talk. They weren’t arguing so that was a good sign. But there were a lot of quiet yes-sirs coming from his big brother. A type of fearful submissiveness only John Winchester could cause. There was no doubt Dean was getting some type of punishment. Sam hopes his father isn’t cruel enough to ban Dean from his party. He really wants to go. He was just trying to do the right thing. Finally, at five in the morning Dean crawled in his bed. 

 

“Are you okay?” Sam whispered really quietly because Dad was a few feet away, resting on the couch. 

 

“Dude, you should be asleep.” 

 

“You can still go the the party right?” 

 

Dean smiled, his bright white teeth shinning through the dark. “Yeah. I just have a 20 minute jog tomorrow and I have to clean the weapons every night for a month.” 

 

Sam made a face, “Well that sucks.” 

 

“I think I got off easy. Plus, Dad said I get to wash baby.” 

 

“You’re happy because Dad’s forcing you to wash the car?” Sam smiled at his brother’s devilish grin, “of course you are.” 

 

              ________________________

 

On October 31st, Dad had left early in the morning. He reminded both boys to be safe while trick-or-treating. Dean was loaded with weapons, but they were securely hidden. 

 

“Remember not to pull one out unless you absolutely have to. The police will be involved if they know a fifteen-year-old has a Walther P99.”

 

“Dad. I know, okay? We’ll be fine.” He was walking his father towards the door. 

 

“Be careful son.” It was an order. 

 

“Yes sir.” Dean responded automatically. His stealthy smile was lingering as his father left. 

 

He locked the door behind his father drew a quick salt line around the door. 

 

“Ready Sam?” He asked, walking to the bathroom where his little brother was standing in front of the mirror. 

 

“Dean?” 

 

“What.” He asked, digging his fingers into a

Crew Fiber hair wax container. The sticky hair product rubbed against his fingers as he carded the product between a few loose stands of hair. 

 

Sam watched his brother, while trying to brush his own hair. “Um? Can you show me how to get my hair to stick up?” 

 

Dean cracked a grin. “How much do you want to stick up? Are we talking the slicked back Elvis Presley style? Or the classic Quiff like Zack Morris?” Dean’s hands went from his own hair to Sammy’s hair. He was ruffling it around and making a few ends stick up. 

 

Sam batted his hands away, “I want it to look like yours.” 

 

Dean scoffed. “Why? I thought you hated my hair. Said I look like a soap opera model.” 

 

“Well you do, but I was just saying that cause you were trying to get into Lori’s pants.” Sam mumbled. 

 

“She was a freaking babe. You would’ve gone the same thing.”

 

Sam shook his head, looking on the counter for some hair gel. “Can you use this and style my hair?” 

 

Dean raised an eyebrow and asked, “Like mine?” Sam nodded. “Okay. One messy Bon Jovi style coming right up.” 

 

“You’re hair doesn’t resemble Bon Jovi.”

 

“Ah you’re right.” Dean said, as he styled Sam’s hair with the gel, “I’m more of a James Dean.” 

 

“You know, just because your name is Dean doesn’t mean you have to look like James Dean.” 

 

“But It’s Halloween Sammy. I can be whoever the hell I want.” 

 

“True. But I thought you were being Steve McQueen.” 

 

“I am.” Dean said proudly. 

 

“Then where’s your costume?” Sam asked cautiously. 

 

“Here’s the thing. Steve’s the King of Cool, so I figured I’ll just look like myself” 

 

“God.” Sam muttered, shaking his head and walking to his bed. He picked up the bright ugly green shirt and a brown vest. 

 

“Dude.” He laughed like a hyena. “Are you freaking Robin Hood?” 

 

“Shut up.” Sam’s face burned. “It’s the only costume I know that allows me to carry a bow and arrow and not look like an insane murder.” 

 

Nodding, Dean tried to contain his snorts of laughter. “So, are you gonna wear tights?” 

He dodged the pillow that Sam whipped at him, falling to the floor laughing. 

 

“You suck!” Sam growled. “And No! I’m wearing jeans you bastard.” 

 

“Bitch.” Dean snapped back watching with a triumphant grin as Sam stormed back into the bathroom to change. 

 

“You actually look good.” Dean said as they walked along the town street. There were a bunch of kids in all sorts of monster costumes that made them very uncomfortable. 

 

“I really hate this night.” Dean mumbled. “I get so trigger happy with all these fake monster children running around, I can’t tell which are real.” 

 

“I know. But try to relax. Remember what Dad said. No pulling the weapons out unless we’re sure.”  Sam lectured. 

 

“I’m actually glad you brought that bow and arrow now.”  Dean whispered as they walked up the front steps to a big house with a hell of a lot of smoke in front of it. 

 

“Damn Sam. You’re friends sure are rich, eh?” 

 

Sam reached over and slugged his shoulder. “Be nice.” 

 

Dean gasped, “who me? Sammy I’m appalled. Of course I’ll be nice -“ 

 

“Yeah right.” 

 

“-If you give me half your candy.”

 

Sam sighed, giving Dean the devil eye. He didn’t get a chance to say anything because the door opened to reveal a young chubby boy in a football uniform.

 

“Hey Chuck.” Sam said a giant smile plastered to his face. The kid didn’t smile back.

 

“Hi Sam.” He said. “Are you sure that’s a big enough bag for the candy?” 

 

“I don’t think you need any bigger.” Dean said, “Actually, It looks to me like you don’t need any candy at all.” He pointed at his own stomach then made a big round shape to emphasize what he was trying to say. 

 

“Did your brother just call me fat?” Chuck shouted. 

 

An incredibly awkward laugh flew from Sam’s mouth. He grabbed Dean’s arm so tightly, he was hoping it left a bruise. “No, of course not. He’s just... can we come in?” 

 

“Sure. Take your shoes off before coming inside. My mom’s picky about that stuff.” Chuck said, still eyeing Dean in a dirty way. Dean stuck his tongue out. 

 

Sam hastily dragged Dean inside. Once Chuck was out of sight, Sam turned to Dean and smacked his chest. 

 

“Half of your candy and I’ll be good.” Dean said. And now Sam knew how Dad felt. 

 

“Fine.” He huffed. “You can have my candy. Just leave my friends alone, you jerk.” 

 

“You won’t even know I’m here.” Dean smiled. 

 

It took a while for the boys to finish chatting about some dumb story. But eventually, all seven kids, plus Dean, were ready to go trick-or-treating. They went to about four houses before one kid started complaining about his side hurting. 

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stuffed that butterfingers bar with a Reese cup.” 

 

“How far is it until we go home?” One boy cried. 

 

“Shut up, dude. We have like seventeen more to hit. I want all the candy on this street!” 

 

“But my arms hurt.” 

 

“Start working out and you won’t have that problem.” 

 

The smaller looking kid gave him a glare. “Can you carry my bag?” 

 

“What do I look like? Your nanny?” 

 

Dean walked up behind that kid, and snagged him by the neck. “Keep walking, hector.” He ordered. Then he turned to the smaller boy. “I’ll carry your bag.” 

 

“Really? Wow, thanks.” 

 

“No problem.” Dean smiled, making sure to stay closer to the youngest kid. Meanwhile, Sam was in the front of the group talking to someone about school. 

 

“It’s awfully dark out.” The youngest boy said, shifting closer to Dean. 

 

Dean smiled and patted his head, “It’s just the fog. Nothing to worry about.” 

 

“Ugh. I hate fog.” Hector yelled. 

 

“It’s just condensed water vapor,” Sam explained, “suspended from -“

 

“Like I care.” Hector screamed, “it’s creepy.” 

 

Sam abruptly stopped walking. Everyone stopped, and Dean quickly jogged to his side. “What is it?” 

 

Sam stared off into the trees. “It sounded like breathing.” Dean quickly raised his head towards the trees. 

 

“All right.” He said, “everybody stay here.” 

 

“Dude. There’s nothing there.” Hector said, but a giant growl made the words die.

 

“What was that?” The boys started shaking nervously. 

 

“Remain calm.” Dean said quietly. 

 

“MONSTER!” Hector screamed and all the boys started running away screaming at the top of their lungs. 

 

“No stop!” Dean screamed. “Sam, get them. I’ll check the tree.” With a nod, Sam went after them. 

 

They had all ran back to Chuck’s mom’s house. The youngest one was crying while the others were telling ridiculous stories. 

 

“I bet it was the pumpkin head.” Hector said. 

 

“Definitely. It probably possessed that new kid too. He’s really weird. I hear he carries a knife to school. Who the hell does that unless they’re possessed.” 

 

“True. Have you see the backpack he carries. It looks like he could stuff a body in there.” 

 

“Why did we ever let Sam Winchester become part of our friend group.” 

 

“Hey guys.” Sam said bravely, though his voice wavered. He had heard everything they said but was trying to play it off. That’s what Dean would do. 

 

Dean said it doesn’t hurt when other people make fun of him. Sam knows because when they were in Detroit a number of years ago when Sam was just a little kid, Dean was playing with him on the school playground. Then some really mean kids starting picking on Dean for playing with a baby. They said he was a baby too and called him really horrible things. Sam remembers crying, but Dean just walked inside with Sam and they sat in the back of the classroom playing with LEGO blocks until a teacher came and told Dean to go back to his classroom. His brother told him later that night that he didn’t care what other people thought of him because they were all stupid. 

 

_“You and Dad are the only two opinions I’ll ever care about.”_

 

So Sam was going to be strong. He wasn’t going to cry or anything. Even if his eyes are stinging. 

 

“Oh- Hey Sam. Didn’t see you there.” One boy whispered nervously. 

 

“Hey. I know what to do.” Chuck said. He flipped on his TV, and changed the channel until he saw an add. “It was on earlier too. It’s a book of monsters!” 

 

Sam watched in disbelief as all his so called friends sat around the TV listening to a woman in a pirate outfit talk about killing monsters. 

 

“For only 13.95, you can learn all there is to know about monsters. For instance, did you know werewolves are allergic to silk fabric? The lady across the street: really dry skin or a mummy? Now you can tell the difference.” 

 

“Oh God.” Sam muttered rolling his eyes to the sky. 

 

“This May be the most important book you ever buy because Monsters are Everywhere.” _Well at least she got that right._ “And if you call now, we’ll even throw in this amulet. It doesn’t do anything, but I got a real good deal on it from my cousin.” 

 

Sam’s eyes popped from his brain. “Oh my..” he got real close to the screen to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Sure enough, the fuzzy static screen showed a brass humanoid with horns. It even had the black chord that Sam’s seen his brother slip over his neck a million times since he gave it to him two Christmas’ ago.

 

“That looks awesome.” Hector said. 

 

“That’s my brother’s!” Sam yelled. 

 

All the boys glared at him. “What’s your brother doing with a monster repelling amulet?” 

 

“What?” Sam asked without thinking. 

 

“Are you a monster?” 

 

“What? No! Of course not.” 

 

“Then why does your brother have to repel you?” 

 

“He..he doesn’t! Look. Someone stole his necklace.”

 

The group of kids began laughing. “Yeah, right. The lady walked out of the TV and snatched it from his neck, is that what happened.” 

 

Sam’s face heated, “stranger things have happened.” He mumbled without thinking about it. What was wrong with him? He’s never this dumb. 

 

“See! I knew he was a freak.” Hector said. “I say we get the book and figure out what he is and then destroy him.”

 

Sam figured that was his cue to go. He started to back up, but the guys screamed to grab him so he called for Chuck’s mother. 

 

“What’s going on in here?” 

 

Sam untangled himself from the boys, “I need to go. They got scared and came home.” 

 

“Chuck, honey there’s nothing to be afraid of.” She said, kissing his head, eliciting a strangled ‘Mom!’ 

 

“We’ll be leaving too.” Hector said. 

 

“Wait. Don’t you boys want some cookies?” 

 

Hector and his friends decided to eat first and then they would buy the monster book. Pleased with that decision, Sam left the house to go find Dean. He was deeply troubled to know someone stole the amulet. Thinking back to this morning, Sam doesn’t remember seeing Dean with the necklace. But how could his brother not have known? He never takes the damn thing off. Didn’t he shower and see the amulet was missing? Why would someone steal his brother’s amulet in the first place? 

 

Sam wanted some answers, but first he wanted to find Dean. By the time Sam was back on the street where he heard a noise, the tree was empty. Crap. This was the second time he lost his brother in less than a week. 

 

“Dean!” He shouted, “Where are you?” 

 

                 _______________________

 

Over the roar of the music, Dean could hear faint chatter. He was trying to get the door, but there were so many people crammed into Maria’s lake house. 

 

“Where are you going?” Bill asked, gripping Dean by the shirt. 

 

“I told you, dude. I need to find my little brother. I didn’t even want to come down here in the first place, but I was following something and it came to the house. You’re all in danger and you should evacuate.” 

 

“Dean, man, you’re talking crazy.” 

 

“Bill, please. Just take Maria and get out. Call off the party.” 

 

Bill shook his head, “Hey, if you want to be a loser that’s fine with me, but don’t try to kill my party vibes, okay?” 

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean pulled himself away from Bill and continued to push his way through the sea of people. “It’s like a mass wave of humanity.” Dean complained, violently shoving people out of the way earning a lot of sour looks. 

 

“Dean?” He turned to the sweet voice. 

 

“Hey Maria.” He said, “Can you call off the party? There’s not much time to explain.” 

 

“Why what’s wrong?” She looked worried. 

 

Dean bit his lip, “I saw something come in here. Something dangerous.” 

 

“Like what? A burglar?”

 

“Sorta.” Dean exclaimed. “Can you please send your friends home?” 

 

Maria nodded. She stood on the fireplace step and whistled loudly. “Listen up everyone! The party’s over.” 

 

From the corner of Dean’s eye, he spotted the large, masked creature he saw in the trees. Part of him knew who it was, but the other part didn’t want to believe it: a werewolf.

 

He chased the creature to out the back door, reaching for his gun with the silver bullets. He aimed and caught the supernatural being in the leg. Dean rushed to his side to see if it really was a werewolf. 

 

Sure enough, Dean saw the sharp teeth hanging from his mouth. He raised the gun directly to the werewolf’s heart. 

 

A sharp pain shot through his neck. He turned to see Maria holding a needle above him. 

 

“What the hell?” Or at least that’s what he tried to say. But his tongue felt heavy. 

 

“Look at all this armature hunter trying to save the day.” She laughed, “it’s pathetic really.” 

 

Damn all his friends really were fake. Dean tried to get up but he couldn’t move. Then everything turned black. 

 

                __________________________

 

“Excuse me?” Sam asked loudly. The man who answered his door was glowering. 

 

“Hey kid,” the man snapped, “Can’t you see I don’t got my lights on? I ain’t doing Halloween this year.” 

 

Sam gulped nervously, he quickly put his arm out to stop the door from closing. 

 

“What the hell?!” 

 

“Please. I’m looking for someone. Have you seen a boy about this tall -“ Sam held his hand in the air above himself trying to indicate just how big his brother was, “he has short hair. Lifted in some places. He’s trying to look like a mini James Dean?” 

 

“Depends.” 

 

“Depends on what?” Sam asked, and the man raised his eyebrows with a growing smirk. 

 

“Oh my.. Does everyone in this town have their hand out?” He shoved a hand in his pocket and threw two dollars at him. 

 

“He was running towards the lake. Looked like he was on drugs to me. I’d say you just leave that -“

 

Sam happily let the door slam in his face. Dean went back to the lake house for the party. That made complete sense. How could he be so stupid? Sam took off running for Maria’s lake house. 

 

                __________________________

 

“He’s waking up.” 

 

A woman’s voice was saying something else, but Dean couldn’t quite understand. Everything was fuzzy. He knew he was someplace dangerous and his first instinct was to run. He tried to stand, but ended up falling back to the floor. Was he tied to something? 

 

“Why don’t you take it easy.” The voice said. And Dean recognized it this time.

 

“Why don’t you kiss my ass, Maria.” 

 

“Aw he is waking up.” A male’s voice. 

 

Squinting, Dean peered his eyes towards the voice. “Bill?” 

 

“Hey Dean. Sorry about the headache.” 

 

“Why are you doing this? Both of you?” Dean asked. His eyes finally focused on the rope that was tied around his wrists. It was a  simple knot, Dad had taught him how to escape one last year. 

 

“You’re kind is weak, Dean. They’re corrupt.”

 

“My kind? What the hell does that mean?” 

 

“Humans.” She said with a scoff. “That’s why the werewolves will win.” 

 

“You’re..you’re werewolves.” Dean squeezed his eyes shut and winced. How could he be so stupid.

 

“You wanna know why we’re doing this?” Bill asked. He was pacing back and forth now, right above Dean. “We’re doing it for our family.”

 

“For your family?” 

 

“That’s right, Dean. See, we’re not all that different from you.” Bill said. 

 

“We can still be friends.” Maria added. “You see. We like you, Dean. You understand loyalty to family.” 

 

He scrunched his eyebrows in concentration. All Dean had to do is untangle the knot. But in order to do this he needed a distraction. “I’m not following?” 

 

“It’s simple.” Maria said, “You are loyal, strong, and smart. All the qualities of a perfect werewolf.” 

 

“You want me to be a werewolf?” Dean asked. 

 

“Yes. That’s exactly what we want. That’s why we stole your amulet. We needed to get your DNA.” 

 

Dean glanced up at them with wide eyes. “What did you want with my DNA.” 

 

“Let me tell you something. The human race was a failure creation. Werewolves are the ultimate species. I would know,” Maria said, “Because I was a human once, a long time ago. My so called family treated me like garbage. They beat me, locked me up, forced me to... do things.” 

 

Dean winced. The knot was getting loose, all he had to do was pull and he would be free. Now, it was all about timing. 

 

Maria was still rambling on about her life story, “Then, one night, my life changed. I was laying outside in the snow, half dead, when my father found me. He was the alpha werewolf, and he saw I had a chance to be something better so he turned me. I suddenly realized I had a new family. One that loved me. All I had to do was be loyal and I could live in peace for the rest of my life.” 

 

“Her first kill was her human father.” Bill said, “same as me. See, human families are so evil. They do more bad than good. But werewolves? Our families are strong, powerful. Everyone feels safe and protected.” 

 

“Sure. Sure.” Dean said with a half ass laugh, “all you have to do is kill a few humans every year then Daddy will let you stay in the pack, right? But if you refuse, then what happens?” 

 

“Dean, of all people, I thought you would know. You don’t refuse anyone in authority.” 

 

“Right.” Dean nodded, “so what I’m hearing is you refuse and you get killed? Am I right? Please, stop me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing the whole safety feeling isn’t so warm and fuzzy if you actually start thinking for yourself?” 

 

“See, there you go again talking like an annoying human being. That’s such a modern concept, thinking for yourself. Whatever happened to the good old fashioned follow the leader?” Bill asked. 

 

“That’s why we needed your DNA, silly. We knew you wouldn’t turn on your family. As we said, you’re too loyal, which is an admirable quality, but your loyalties are in the wrong place.” 

 

“Get to the freaking point.” Dean yelled. 

 

“We’re going to create a new Dean Winchester.”

 

“A better one.” Bill added.

 

“He will be our brother. And he will protect us the same way you protect Sammy.” Maria smiled, leaning close to his face. 

 

“All we need,” Bill said, “Is a piece of DNA, and three human sacrifices.”

 

“Oh and we need your heart, which is why you have to be the last sacrifice.” Maria smirked. She raised the knife from behind her back, high in the sky, and aimed for his heart. Dean figured now was as good a time as any to yank the rope off of his wrists and stop her from stabbing him. 

 

He threw up his forearms like an offensive lineman blocking a defensive back, but Bill slipped to the side, pushed Dean’s elbow down and away, caught his head, and rolled him onto the floor. Third contact was made, and Dean was on his feet, watching the muscular wolf rush toward him in slow motion as Maria, even more slowly, jumped to her feet. Dean reached under his shirt even as he pushed past the tables. Bill did not try to stop the gun; he rolled his hand under the Dean’s wrist, drove his arm over and back, and pulled him backward and down. Dean had the gun before Bill slammed into the floor, and hit him on the forehead with it two hard times. 

 

Maria lunged at him, and Dean shot as fast as he could, without getting a good look at his target. A spray of bullets gorged the walls, but one hit Maria directly in the heart. She fell flat to the ground. Bill growled, a terrifying sound and then threw himself at Dean. He sinked his teeth deep into Dean’s thigh eliciting a scream from the young hunter. 

 

Once Dean was laying flat on his back, Bill climbed over him and put his claws over Dean’s chest. 

 

“I’ll carve you like a jack- o-lantern you little bitch.”  Bill growled as he raised his claws above Dean and then swiped it down across his chest. A hot wave of pain shoot through Dean’s upper breast. It took everything he had not to scream out loud. 

 

The werewolf raised his claws again, but before it had a chance to swipe Dean, it was smacked across the head with a bat. 

 

“Sam?” Dean shouted, sitting up from his spot on the floor. His chest was aching horribly, and he knew he was losing a lot of blood, but Sam was now being tackled by the werewolf. 

 

“Get off him.” Dean screamed. He found his gun on the ground, picked it up, and pulled the trigger. 

 

“Sam? Sammy?” He carefully approached the dead werewolf, and his little brother who was laying underneath it with his eyes closed. “Oh God, Sammy, please tell me you’re alright.” Dean crouched down, and pulled Sam into his arms. He started searching his brother’s face, and neck, looking for bite marks. 

 

“Dean?” The voice was hoarse, but it meant Sam was okay. Dean sniffled a laugh. 

 

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

 

                ________________________

 

“You did the right thing getting yourselves to a hospital.” John said as he sat in the white room, across from Dean’s bed. 

 

“I screwed up.” Dean whispered, eyes glistening at the floor. “I shouldn’t have trusted Maria. I should have known -“

 

“Stop.” John ordered softly. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. You did a good job. You stopped two werewolves from killing anyone.”

 

Dean met his father’s gaze, “I think they just wanted to kill me. They said something about creating a copy of me or something. But I don’t get why they didn’t just bite me? Wouldn’t that turn me?” 

 

John chuckled, he dug his hands in his pockets and said, “I don’t think they wanted to turn you. I think they wanted to create a mindless follower. At least, that’s what the alpha told me before I killed him.” 

 

“You killed the alpha?” Dean asked, scooting up on the hospital bed. His chest still hurt, but the IV drip was helping. 

 

“Yep,” John pulled his hand out of his pocket and tossed the amulet at Dean. “I got this from him too. I think it belongs to you,” 

 

Dean smiled, “Thank you, sir.” 

 

John ruffled his hair. “Get some rest. I’m going to check on your brother. The doctors say he had a mild concussion but other than that, the kid’s fine.” 

 

“So you’re just waiting on me?” Dean quipped. 

 

“Yeah. So get your lazy ass out of bed and let’s get the hell out of West Virginia.” John said. 

 

Dean nodded, then fell back against the soft pillows. He would be fine in a few hours, but right now he could use some sleep. 

 

“Oh!” Dean sat up one more time, stopping his father from leaving. “I almost forgot to say it. Happy Halloween, Dad.” 

 

John grumbled something about hating Halloween as he closed the room door. 


End file.
